


Long Way Home

by Resoan



Series: Drabbles, Requests, and Memes [31]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Cousland has just returned from her journey to find an end to the Calling, and her King is all too happy to welcome her back properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this is set post Inquisition, but it doesn't spoil anything. It was also originally requested on my tumblr by jessicapendragon, who asked for a Kiss on the Hip.

“I should go change,” Cirrenes murmured against the skin of Alistair’s jaw, even as she made no move to pull away from him yet. “I can shock the court with my arrival and then we can retire early to… _reacquaint_.” 

When she lifted her gaze to his, it was to see him grinning down at her; becoming king had certainly matured him, but if she blinked, she could have easily seen him as the eager Grey Warden back at Ostagar before tragedy had followed.

“Oh, I suppose it’s all right,” Alistair finally told her, one of his hands sliding up her back and nestling gently at the back of her head. “But don’t keep me waiting. King’s orders!”

“Oh? Just for that, I’m going to wear a low-cut gown, the green one I think - and I’ll take my time eating dinner too.” Cirrenes wore a wicked smirk, her eyes glinting mischievously, though it was an expression Alistair easily overcame with another, lingering kiss that had her settling against him as her knees began to tremble.

“Mm, I don’t imagine right here on your desk is a good idea?” Cirrenes murmured, her fingertips playing with the tiny, little curls at the base of Alistair’s skull. She watched his Adam’s apple bob uncertainly as he swallowed, though she pulled away before he could further react. 

“A tragedy, truly, but I suppose it is one to be rectified tonight.” With a wink and crooked grin Cirrenes moved from Alistair’s study up to their shared chamber - a room she had not been in for several months if not a full year. It had been entirely too long, but the rewards were well worth it. 

A young, elven maid was smoothing the wrinkles from the cream-colored comforter, and she gasped when she turned to see Cirrenes, a sun-kissed hand covering her lips before she bowed her head in deference.

“I don’t suppose you would help me get ready, would you?” Cirrenes inquired quietly, deft fingertips loosing the metal chestpiece before setting it to the side.

The elf nodded, brown eyes warm, and Cirrenes smiled at her before describing the dress she wanted.

“Oh! I’ve seen the dress so often, I had begun to wonder if the King had strange…proclivities…,” the servant’s comment trailed off as she retrieved the frock, though Cirrenes had stopped just as she’d pulled off a boot, her laughter forcing her to pause.

“I’m certain the king has  _many_ , but dressing in my clothing is not one of them, I’m afraid,” Cirrenes informed the elf who’d turned scarlet with embarrassment. 

The pair of them chatted amicably as Cirrenes finished disrobing in time for her bath to arrive, though the servant - whose name, Cirrenes learned, was Ann - took the armor to be properly polished. 

“Good timing,” Cirrenes remarked when Ann returned, just as she herself finished bathing and was drying the ends of her red hair with a towel.

The dress was exactly as Cirrenes remembered; made of silk with satin sleeves and bodice designs, it seemed to slip down her skin with the softness of water. It also clung to every dip and crevice of her waist and chest, while thankfully flaring out past her hips. Jewelry was tempting, but Cirrenes was already anxious, and Ann wished her good luck with a coy, little smile before Cirrenes went back down to the feasting hall where Alistair and the court entertaining a few, foreign emissaries.

“Ah, and may I present my lady wife?” Alistair battled away his grin as best he could, but it forced its way onto his lips all the same despite his efforts at keeping a polite expression.

Cirrenes inclined her head before stepping into the room and sitting at Alistair’s right hand; her appearance had triggered several not-so-quiet whispers among their guests, and Cirrenes pretended not to notice how Alistair’s gaze seemed glued to her side.

Some asked after her family - after Highever and Fergus, and the woman they claimed he was now courting.  _An **elf**  of all things? What is the poor man thinking?_ Some pointed remarks settled on her tongue, and only when their visitors were all sufficiently liquored did Cirrenes answer them with barbs of her own. 

She didn’t want to dwell on Fergus at the moment, though; she hadn’t been to Highever in so long, and the guilt weighing on her made her incredibly uncomfortable. Perhaps that was why she so easily let Alistair bid the courtiers good night, and help her up to their quarters, his hand sliding down her back to the swell of her hips several times.

“Maker’s  _breath_ , that dress is just not fair!” Cirrenes grinned up at him, though her smile softened as she brushed a hand across his cheek. 

“No one wants it to be unfair, then,” Cirrenes breathed against his ear lobe. “You’d best help me to take it off.” 

Alistair needed no more prompting after that. His hands, large and warm, pulled at the strings on her back which held her dress together, and Cirrenes could not keep from gasping when the dress fell from her shoulder and pooled around her ankles.

“You’ve just come home, my love,” Alistair murmured darkly, his lips finding a particularly sensitive place on her neck and sucking gently. “Allow me to welcome you properly. You must be  _so very_  tired.”

He helped her onto the bed, his hands brushing her hair back and behind her shoulders, down over her collarbones, until they lingered on her breasts and she breathed in sharply: suddenly needy and wanting and very aware of how close Alistair was. Just as suddenly, his hands moved down over her belly and to one of her hips as he took a seat on the bed next to her.

“Relax,” Alistair told her gently, quietly, his eyes gleaming warmly. Cirrenes smiled back at him, a ripple of goosbumps crawling up her arms as he bent his head and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the skin of her hip. “I know I’m going to enjoy it, but I want to make sure you do too.” 

Before Cirrenes could process such a response, his thumbs had nudged her hips apart, and his lips descended to the space between them. 

The servants would hear several cries and gasps that night.


End file.
